


Comforting Touches

by AggressiveStress



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 16:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15667044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AggressiveStress/pseuds/AggressiveStress
Summary: Stefan told her to leave, but Damon has always wanted her to stay. So she does, finally.





	Comforting Touches

By the time they finally got in the car to head back to Mystic Falls, Elena couldn’t even look at Damon. She could feel him glancing over every few minutes, as if he’s making sure she’s not going to pull the door open and fling herself out. Her eyes keep filling with tears and looking back at him wasn’t an option. She knows that as soon as she did, she’d let the tears fall because the overwhelming pity in his eyes would be too much. So instead her head falls against the cool glass of the window, and she keeps her eyes trained on the falling rain outside. Fitting for such an awful night. 

 

She didn’t know what to expect after they found Stefan. Maybe she expected a hug, a kiss, a promise of his return, but all he had was nothing. His eyes weren’t the same as they were when she knew he cared. They’d changed for the worse; the only time he even made eye contact with her was when the words “leave and stop looking” fell from his lips. Lips she wanted to kiss, but she knew a step closer would only send him two steps back. Of course she fought him on it, fought desperately to change his mind, and begged him to just come home and let them deal together. 

 

He took those two steps back then, and she barely managed to find remorse in his eyes. His humanity was off, she knew, but she’s a solid believer that love should be able to bring him back. So of course the next horrifying thought she had was maybe he didn’t love her anymore. Fresh tears welled up, and she felt Damon’s eyes on her for just a moment but it was enough to make a couple tears roll down her hot cheeks. She rolled her eyes at herself, suddenly feeling stupid for having hope, and she angrily swiped those tears away. When her hand landed back on the seat, Damon’s fingers lightly danced over her knuckles. Just a split second of touch, but something nonetheless. 

 

They don’t speak for the car ride, and eventually Damon reaches a hand to the radio and flicks it on. She’s grateful for the soft noise as it gives her something to focus on other than the raindrops running down her window. Damon’s grateful because he can focus on it instead of Elena’s painfully slow heartbeats; they scream in his ears of heartbreak. Being able to hear her falling apart only pains him, and it truly pisses him off that his brother could do this to her. Elena had brought Damon back without meaning to, had given him a chance to be in her life ever since Stefan went missing, and that was amazing. She truly is amazing, and yet his dumbass brother forced her to leave him. 

 

His hands clench tighter over the wheel and finally, finally he says, “I’m sorry, Elena.” And it’s deafening in the quiet of the car even with the soft radio and hum of the engine. Her eyes flick over to him when he’s not looking, and she roams across his face slowly. 

 

It takes her those seconds to realize she’s looking for the sarcastic asshole she’d unknowingly become friends with in the past couple months. All she finds is true regret across his features, and maybe a little bit of anger swirling in his eyes. Anger for wasting a drive, she thinks, but knows that’s not the truth. Damon is angry for her where she is just sad, and maybe she’d get to the anger next but as of that moment she can’t even imagine getting past this car ride. She swallows hard and turns her eyes back to her window, wondering when they became close enough to connect with barely no words and yet it feels like paragraphs

 

“Me too,” is all she replies. His warm index and middle fingers run across her knuckles again, and up across the bone of her wrist. Then the touch is gone and the rest of the drive is deafening silence. 

 

*

 

Damon pulls open her door and reaches out a hand, waiting but no pressure behind the softness of his eyes. She takes the handout and allows him to gently pull her from the warmth of the car to the chilly wind of outside. He’d left the light on beside the front door when they left earlier that day, and it feels harsh after such a sullen ride. Elena squints a bit and blinks a few times, trying to adjust while Damon guides her to the door and unlocks it for them. The house itself isn’t warm when they step inside, but the chill doesn’t compare to that of outside. She’s always appreciated the house before then, but now it just feels empty like her own chest. 

 

She finds herself shuffling to the parlor and curling up on one of the couches, shoes kicked to the floor in front of her. Damon appears from a hall closet with a knitted heavy white blanket that he wraps around her shoulders. He goes to the bar and pours two drinks, one of which he offers to her and she gladly takes. She’s never been a big fan of bourbon, but the distraction feels needed. Damon sheds his leather jacket, throws it over the arm of his favorite reading chair, and goes to work on lighting the grand fireplace. Her eyes follow him, watching the way his shoulders tense under his black T-shirt and how he doesn’t even flinch when the fire gets to a nice roar. 

 

Once it’s to his satisfaction, he moves toward her and briefly touches her shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, voice loud in the quiet of the big house. She nods and he disappears upstairs seconds later, leaving her to the solitude she doesn’t know if she appreciates or despises. 

 

“Leave and stop looking for me,” he’d said in the darkness of the road. Klaus was in the bar with Damon who was keeping him distracted just long enough for Elena to be able to see Stefan like this. 

 

“No Stefan. I love you, please come home. We can deal with all of this together just like we deal with everything else, ” she stepped forward, hand outreached. He took those two steps back like she knew he would. 

 

“I can’t. I made a deal and now I have to keep it up. Besides,” his face shifts, flashing his fangs, “it’s not that bad being able to do whatever I want.” 

 

“Except leave.”

 

“I never said I wanted to go.”

 

She took her own step back as if he’d physically pushed her, blinking rapidly. She hadn’t thought of that. She never took a second to think about how ripper Stefan may not want to ever come back to her. How he may even prefer this life. Her heart falters, and the way Stefan’s mouth curls into a smirk makes her wish that maybe she hadn’t come at all. It was easier thinking that he was trapped here, doing all of these horrible things they’d been tracking because he  _ had  _ to. But here he stands in front of her, telling her the opposite. He was getting his thrill out of tearing innocents apart, and by doing so he’s tearing her apart with them. 

 

Damon had told her, too. He warned her that Stefan wasn’t the same man he’d been the last time they were together, but she insisted she could handle it. She always insisted she could handle these situations, that she would be alright no matter what they had to deal with, but Damon always seemed to know what was too hard. He knew it would take this toll on her and he had done everything in his power to get her to stay back this once. Elena wishes she had listened, but it’s too late now. 

 

“You don’t mean that,” she said to Stefan, hands curling into fists by her sides. She pushed her fingernails into her palms hard enough to leave marks, but that was okay. The slight twinge of pain kept her grounded. 

 

Stefan just looked at her like she was another one of his victims, as though she’s nothing other than a casualty to him. A casualty he’s willing to leave behind. “If you genuinely think I’m lying to you right now, you’re more ignorant than I thought.” He scoffs and his eyes trail up and over her shoulder, suddenly narrowing. “Leave and don’t come back. Both of you stop looking for me or next time, you won’t have a chance to leave.” 

 

A hand had wrapped around her wrist, and she knew without looking that it had to be Damon. Only Damon would dare reach out to her and force her to walk away from what she thought would be her future. He knew his brother better than she did, though, and he knew that Stefan would hold to his word. The younger never had the strength with his humanity off to realize when someone didn’t deserve to lose their life just for caring about him. Elena let herself get pulled away, but it didn’t matter. When she turned to see Stefan one last time, he had disappeared as though he was never there in the first place. 

 

“Elena,” his voice is softer than usual, no hint of teasing or playing recognizable. She realizes her drink is gone and Damon is crouched in front of her on the couch, both of her hands in his. Her empty glass sits on the coffee table, the fire flickering beautiful flames in the crystal glass. “Hey, look at me,” his voice is harder. 

 

She trails her eyes to his, and they lock onto each other. “Sorry,” she says. 

 

“I didn’t say apologize. I just wanted to make sure you’re still here with me.” He changed clothes upstairs, now dressed in soft-looking sweatpants and a long sleeved Henley, and in his hand he holds a pair of dark red boxer shorts and a black sweater. “You can get changed if you want to be a little more comfortable,” he offers and sets the clothes onto the couch next to her.

 

When he stands and moves to make himself another drink, she takes the clothes and walks to the half bath downstairs. She takes her time changing, realizing right away that these clothes don’t smell like Stefan. They smell like spice and pine, not mint and old wax candles, which only points toward Damon. She’s grateful, knowing she doesn’t want to be consumed by Stefan anymore now that she’s expected to move on with her life. Her jeans slide down her legs- slightly damp from the light drizzle she stood in whilst talking to Stefan- with her socks and she strips off her shirt and lacy deep green bra next. She leaves on her matching panties and pulls on the loose boxer shorts, and the soft black sweater that consumes her. It falls to her mid thighs and covers her hands; she buries herself in it and leaves her clothes folded on the sink counter.

 

Elena leaves the bathroom, dragging her feet across the soft carpet in the hallway until she can collapse back in her corner of the couch. Damon is in his chair, texting someone on his phone with one hand and sipping his bourbon with the other. She knows her cell is still in his car along with her purse, but she doesn’t care. Texting Jeremy right then wouldn’t be a good idea, knowing he’d offer to come to the Salvatore house to take her home. But there’s so much in her room that reminds her of Stefan, including the shirts he’d loaned her to sleep in. She left the one she slept in last night thrown at the foot of her bed... Her cold, empty bed. 

 

Damon stands up, moves closer, and then sits on the couch beside her, a respective distance away. For a few minutes, they stay quiet. Elena trains her eyes on the fire and only blinks when her eyes can’t stay focused anymore and start filling with tears. Damon watches her for the most part, but turns away after every couple minutes respectfully. It’s when he’s looking away and staring at the drink in his glass when he feels her body heat press up against his side. He doesn’t react outwardly, but inside his heart stops for just a second. She’s warm and she uses her arm that isn’t pressed against his side to wrap part of the blanket around his front, leaving that arm angled across his body. His arm that isn’t holding his drink is resting across the back of the couch, but when she puts her head on his shoulder, he lets the arm droop across her. 

 

Her thigh is pressed up against his, and he can feel that her heartbeat has settled a little and gone back to its normal rhythm. “Thank you,” she says at last. He runs his hand up and down her arm slowly, just for something to keep him distracted from his own heart. 

 

“I didn’t do anything, Elena.”

 

She sighs and the exhale hits his collarbone, making goosebumps raise on his arms just for a second. “Yes, you did. You let me come with you even though you knew what would happen.”

 

“I wasn’t sure,” he trains his eyes on the fire. “I’m sorry now that I let you come anyway. You didn’t deserve anything he said to you. He deserve a better ending.”

 

“I don’t think any ending would’ve been okay with me... but this one hurt.”

 

“I know and I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

 

“Stop saying sorry. You’ve been such a great friend for the past few months, and I... I couldn’t ask for anyone better to be here with everything going on.” 

 

“Well maybe one person who’s better,” he says it like a joke, but the bitterness he tries to hide doesn’t go undetected. 

 

She lifts her head and stares at him even when he doesn’t meet her eyes. “No,” she says, “don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to Stefan. If there’s one thing I’ve realized being around both of you for a while now, it’s that you’re very different from each other. You’re good in different ways, but the important thing is that you are good. Damon, don’t doubt that.”

 

He turns and connects their gazes, and they sit there like that for a long moment. Then he leans forward and presses his lips gently against her forehead. He hears it when her heart picks up, jumping in her chest, and her skin gets a little warmer to the touch. She closes her eyes against the kiss and relishes in the touch, thinking about the past months where he’s comforted her more times than she ever thought he would. He protects himself with sarcasm and his general asshole facade, but when it’s just them it’s different. He drops the facade and he listens to her, watches her closely as she spills all of her feelings to him. And he barely flinches now when “Stefan” falls from her lips. 

 

He moves from her forehead, but doesn’t make it far. Elena presses her face into his neck, her lips parted slightly, allowing her quicker breaths to escape, and he listens closely to her heart as he has been a lot recently. He uses the rhythm to gauge her emotions, so he knows when it’s okay to make jokes or flirty, flippant comments and compliments. Now isn’t the time to joke. He can tell by the way she’s pressing all of her body into is, like she’s looking for the warmth that she was hoping to find through Stefan tonight. It stings him to think about, so he chooses not to think about how if Stefan had come home they wouldn’t be like this right now. 

 

“You’re going to be okay,” he says, gently moving his hand from her arm up to tug on her hair a little. “I know you don’t believe it, but you will be.”

 

“I’m glad one of us believes that. I can’t believe he just walked away, like I was a stranger.”

 

“He can’t help it. Klaus made him turn his humanity off.” 

 

“But even when you turned yours off, you still always treated me like you knew me at least. You never changed and showed me that I mean nothing.” Her fingertips are sitting on the strip of skin that’s barely uncovered under his T-shirt, but the touch is enough for him to get defensive. 

 

“You mean everything,” he sets his drink down on the table next to the couch with a thud and weaves that hand through hers. “If you say one more thing that’s negative about you instead of Stefan, who is truly the one at fault here, I will argue with you. No matter how hurt you’re feeling now. You don’t deserve all this negativity that you’re putting on yourself.” 

 

Elena feels the change in the atmosphere almost immediately. Her stomach tenses up and her cheeks flush where one is still pressed against his shoulder. She lifts her head and looks at this man that had easily become someone she trusted, despite everything he’d done to prove that trust misplaced. His jaw had always been more masculine than Stefan’s, his eyes more intense, his eyebrows constantly furrowed with his thoughts, and he’s beautiful. She’s always known how gorgeous this man is because she isn’t blind, but she always focused on Stefan. After all, he’d gotten to her first as far as she remembered.

 

When Damon turns slightly to lock eyes with her, her breath hitches and her heart skips a beat. She’d had an awful day, only broken up in bits and pieces by Damon’s company of jokes and reassurance. Damon who had been with her the whole time Stefan ran from her, who stayed in her life despite his feelings for her, who did whatever he thought was needed to keep her safe no matter what. He’s always put her first, and maybe that wasn’t always what she wanted but he didn’t care. After all, he did tell her so surely that no matter what, it would always be her. 

 

Maybe, finally, she realizes that it had always been him, too. It’s this last thought that propels her forward. 

 

His lips are soft and warm with the slight taste of bourbon. And it’s so  _ Damon _ and so different, but it’s perfect in a way she never let herself see before. It’s just a press of mouth on mouth, Damon never pressing more or trying to push her into something more. She realizes with a jolt through her skin that he’s waiting for her, just like always. Because she comes first, she reminds herself, because he’s going to treat her like he always does. As though she’s the most important person with the most important decisions in the matter. Which is why she pushes further, bringing up the hand that was on his waist and pushing her fingers into his soft hair. 

 

His hand lands lightly on her waist, not pushing or pulling, but sitting. She moves her mouth in the slightest and then he’s moving back. Not a lot but enough to where when he speaks, his lips lightly brush against hers. “Elena, this isn’t what you want. Not now.”

 

“You said you would always put me first,” she replies, “and right now... this is what I need. You’ve been my rock and my friend and I need you now like I’ve needed you for the past few months. Please, please let me. If you want it, too.”

 

“I’ve wanted you from the beginning, you know that. But you have to be sure this is what you want. I don’t want you to hate me tomorrow.” He lightly runs his fingers down her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear and settling his hand on the back of her neck. He can feel her pulse there, and it’s steady when she speaks again. 

 

“After everything we’ve been through, I think it’s been established that I can’t hate you, Damon. I can’t. I can only care about you so, so much.” She’s not lying, he thinks. And he smiles when she pulls him toward her again. 

 

He kisses her without haste at first, allowing her to lead him where she wants to go. When she opens her mouth to let him explore her further, he gladly lets his tongue dance with hers. When she pushes her hand farther into his hair and pulls just a little, he opens his mouth enough to let her explore him. She’s beautiful, with lips that mold to his as perfectly as he thought they’d work together, and she’s eager to learn everything about him. Elena pushes her feet against the couch cushion enough to swing one leg up and over his waist, putting herself over his lap and allowing her to put both of her hands in his hair. She pushes closer and he moves his hands to her waist, squeezing tight enough to give her that sense of security and love that she craves so much. She moans into the kiss and he gently bites down on her bottom lip, pulling away and kissing down her neck. 

 

He uses his blunt teeth to nip the sensitive skin there and then sucks at the same spot until she’s lowering herself on his lap, clashing their crotches together. The thin cloth of the shorts she’s wearing leaves little to her imagination because she can feel the heat he’s radiation from the bulge in his sweatpants, and she gasps with every nip he lays on her neck. Her hips grind down, and he immediately holds them tighter and pulls her back up. 

 

“Elena don’t-“

 

“Don’t,” she breathes out, connecting their eyes seriously. “Don’t tell me I don’t know what I want because-  _ fuck  _ Damon I want you. So much.” 

 

In a blink she’s on her back on the couch, one leg hitched over his waist and the other resting with her foot on the floor. He’s on top of her, kissing her deeply and keeping one hand beside her head to keep himself up, but the other one goes under the sweater (one he considers a favorite) and lets him trail his nails up and down her side. She arches into him at the touch, goosebumps rising all over and she whines. His hips gently move forward, teasing the heat between her legs, and she pushes her hand under his shirt to dig her nails into his back. 

 

“Take me upstairs,” she says into his mouth, and then his arms are under her. She’s cradled close to him, his warmth bringing the most comfort she’s had in days, and she holds on tight around his neck. 

 

He speeds up the stairs and into his room, and she takes just a second to observe the room. The main attraction is the big poster bed with the deep red sheets that have always looked soft to the touch, a thick and fluffy black comforter thrown on top and another white knit blanket folded over the foot. Besides the bed she’s found herself wondering about, there’s a beautiful dresser, desk, his giant flat screen, and a couple of single chairs sitting in the corner with a table between them. His bathroom is on display, looking to be the most modern room in the house compared to Stefan’s less impressive one. She’s always wanted to use his shower.

 

Then she’s on the bed and he’s standing at the foot, cradled between her thighs. “One more time,” he insists gently, cupping her face in his hand and running his thumb across her cheek. “I need to hear you say that this won’t make you hate me. Elena,” he breathes out, emotions hard for him ever since Katherine broke his heart so long ago, “I care too much to lose you. Even if I get something I’ve wanted for so long in the process.” 

 

“Damon, I want you to fuck me,” her cheeks flush deeply, burning hot. She’s never used those words with Matt or Stefan, never having the courage to do so. They never seemed interested in that kind of talk, so she never let her deepest fantasies and wants go free.

 

He shakes his head, “Not this time. Tonight, I’m going to show you exactly how much I care.” 

 

His fingers are warm on her stomach when he pushes his hands under the sweater again, and keeps moving up. She lifts her arms above her head to let him pull the thick material off, and she shivers at the sudden air that hits her. She feels her nipples harden, and then his eyes are on her and she lifts her arms to cover herself, suddenly embarrassed.

 

“Hey,” he takes hold of her wrists, leans forward and kisses her gently. “You’re stunning,” he says sincerely.

 

And she is. Her breasts are round and beautiful, her nipples deep in color and what he considers the perfect size. He doesn’t compare her to Katherine or any other woman because she isn’t like any other woman. She’s beautiful on the inside and out, and he can’t wait to show her just how special she is. Elena grabs the hem of his sweater and tugs it up and over his head, and she takes in the beauty of him. He’s filled out in places she hadn’t seen in her exes; he’s all defined muscle and sharp lines that go softer when he exhales. His body is addicting and she leans forward, placing a kiss between his pecs and then moving her kisses up and around his neck. He shivers and pushes her back on the bed until she’s lying down. 

 

He climbs over her and kisses her for a minute, letting her adjust to being so open with him. “Trust me,” he says against her earlobe. He kisses his way down her neck, nipping and sucking along the trail until he’s at her breasts.

 

She moans at the first little lick to her nipple and arches when his hand goes to the other, gently kneading her nipple between his fingers. He sucks on it, gently scraping blunt teeth across it until she’s writhing, and then he moves to the other. His hand switches and massages, swiping a thumb over the damp area to keep it pebbled and sensitive. She moans under his mouth going to work again, and she feels more undone than she thought possible. Foreplay was never the speciality of her past partners, but Damon insisted on showing her exactly what she deserves. 

 

“Fuck, Damon,” she exhales and can’t help the hand that tangles in Damon’s hair. The other is by her side, wringing the hell out of the comforter. She’s so caught up in his mouth on her body that it takes her a moment to realize he’s pulled the boxer shorts down her hips. She maneuvers and kicks them the rest of the way off, leaving her just in her panties. 

 

She uses the hand in his hair to pull him back up to her to kiss, tongues moving together, and she starts untying his sweatpants. He grabs her hand and gently pins it beside her. 

 

“No, baby, not yet,” he kisses her again and moves down her body, pressing kisses as he goes. Over each breast, down across her stomach, over her hip bones, and then down each leg avoiding the heat he can smell so strongly between her beautiful legs. He kisses her thighs, her inner thighs, and down her calves and to her inner ankle until she’s writhing and her smell is overwhelming all his senses. “You smell amazing,” he murmurs. 

 

Her cheeks flare up again, “That’s a new one.” 

 

He looks up from where he’s gently running his fingers up and down over the quickly dampening crotch of her panties. “How do you mean?” 

 

Her eyes are closed tight, hands wringing the comforter on either side of her. “I just... haven’t heard that one.”

 

He moves her panties slightly to the side, swipes his index finger up her slit and covering it in her juices. She moans and he sucks his finger into his mouth, feeling himself get harder at the taste. “How about: you’re fucking delicious?” he moves forward and moves his tongue in the same line up her lips. His eyes practically roll back in his head, “So fucking good.” 

 

“No,” she huffs as he pulls her panties off of her completely. “No, no ones ever... done this so they’ve never said that.” 

 

At that, he snaps his attention back to her face that’s clenched in beautiful sexual agony. “What do you mean no one’s ever done this?” 

 

“Damon do we really need to discuss this right no-“ she cuts herself off with a moan when his finger slides into her easily. 

 

He curls it upwards a couple times until her hips buck and her mouth falls open, and then he uses his other hand to hold her hips down. “Oh baby I think you may like this.” 

 

The pet name, he notices, sends a flood of wetness over his finger. He removes it and leans forward, licking deep into her delicious pussy. She nearly screams out at the feeling of his tongue dipping into her hole, clenching her hands tighter when he uses his thumb to rub circles into her clit, and it’s driving her wild. He dips his tongue in and out as far as he can get it, rubbing at the same rhythm, until he’s essentially tongue fucking her into oblivion. He moves his tongue to flicking at her clit and pushes that finger in her again, curling it up. 

 

“Oh Damon,” she groans, pushing herself down on his finger that moves out, in, curls, and out again. He takes his finger out, sticks three in his mouth to coat them, and then gently slithers all of them deep inside her. She cries out, her legs opening wider to let them inside of her. 

 

“You’re so tight baby,” he says against her pussy. “Relax,” but he knows she can’t. Not when he’s fucking her on his fingers and flicking her clit, and she’s writhing and moaning and fucking herself down. 

 

The heat pooling in her lower tummy turns into a blinding white fire and then she’s yelling his name, and he feels her tighten around his fingers as she orgasms. Her walls throb with release and he licks and gently curls and strokes until her breath comes back to her, and then he slides out of her and stick them in his mouth. He cleans all of her juices off his fingers and licks up her pussy, sending her into overdrive. 

 

“Okay, Damon, okay,” her hips jerk at the oversensitivity and he climbs back over her body, dropping kisses like ecstasy bombs everywhere. “That was,” she loses her breath again, “that was amazing oh my god.”

 

She manages to lift a shaky hand, curl her fingers in his hair, and pull him down in a deep kiss. Tasting herself on his lips gives her a deep thrill, and she eagerly moves her tongue with his. She feels him against her thigh, heat so intense even through the fabric of his sweat pants and then she’s desperate for it all over again. 

 

“Are you sure?” he asks but she’s already pushing his sweats down and watching with eager eyes to see him emerge. 

 

“Oh my-“ she swallows at the size. She expected big but what Damon has, all beautiful nine inches and a girth that looks like it will hurt, is more than any expectations. 

 

All of a sudden he looks slightly nervous, “Are you okay?” He brushes hair behind her ear and she shivers and feels her pussy aching to be filled. 

 

“Better than,” she kisses him again because she can’t get enough of him. He’s crafty and beautiful in bed but the way he kisses her is the most tender, passionate experience she’s ever had. When they pull back, she lifts her hand to her mouth and uses spit to reach down and coat his dick. 

 

Her small hand wraps around him, and his eyes close and he rocks into her hand immediately. She uses the lubrication to stroke him, and he breathes deeply and kisses her even more so. He can’t take it anymore when she spreads her legs and guides the head of his dick to her pussy, rubbing it up and down her wet slit. The sensation is enough to drive any man crazy, but he forces the animal in him down because this is about Elena. He wants her to feel loved and beautiful and cared for so he’s going at her pace. 

 

“Slow, okay? I’ve never had someone like... like you.” He thinks her blush is beautiful. 

 

“Of course,” he kisses her sweetly at the first little thrust, just pushing the head into her. 

 

She digs her nails into his back and moans a confirmation for more, and then more, and more until he’s pressed into her. She’s never felt so full, so absolutely gone with the ecstasy of having someone inside her. Damon drops his head into her neck, kissing there and breathing heavy, just as overwhelmed. 

 

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs. “So tight and wet for me, baby. So good.”

 

“So good,” she agrees in a breath and then she rolls her hips down, and he understands. 

 

He pulls out as much as he dares and then pushes forward, burying himself to the hilt. They both moan and he starts to rock, pulling out and pushing in and thrusting so deep that she can feel her heartbeat and his through her lower stomach. She can feel him pressing against her sweet spot like he’s  _ made _ for her, and then he speeds up. She digs her nails in and they scratch down his back, and he groans and thrusts harder and faster. Words are falling in a slew out of her lips, and she doesn’t know what she’s saying exactly but she knows Damon’s name is the most common. She knows that she’s begging for him, and she’s falling into the pits of ecstasy and submission so easily. It’s never been like this, she knows that, because she’s never been so into the action of making love. 

 

Damon keeps his mouth busy, kissing and licking and nipping, and it’s driving her crazy in the best way. He’s drowning in her, realizing that all of his feelings haven’t been for nothing if they got him here. He’s finally so close to the girl he loves so deeply, and he’s filling her up and making her scream his name. She’s biting down on his shoulder and then pulling back to crash their mouths together, desperate to touch him in anyway possible. 

 

They keep the rhythm for what feels like hours and she’s squirming like she’s going to come, so his fingers drop between them and then he’s rubbing her clit. “Do you want to cum?” he asks, thrusting so deep and hard in her that her head occasionally hits the headboard ever so slightly.

 

“Fuck yes,” she moans, legs wrapped around his waist just enough to keep the contact. Like she’s grounding herself. 

 

“Ask me nicely,” he demands. 

 

She’s right on the edge and he’s driving her crazy and she finds her mouth opening and then she’s begging. “Please Damon, please let me cum. Please, please baby I’ll do anything.” And then, she adds, “I want you to cum in me.”

 

“What?” he doesn’t stop but he falters slightly, shocked. 

 

“Yeah,” she opens her eyes and stares right back at him. “Please, Damon, please let me cum and cum with me. I want to feel you fill me up and leak out of my pussy.  _ Please _ I’m about to cum.” 

 

He moves his fingers on her clit faster, fucks into her so deep and hard that Elena feels she may forget her name. All she can think is  _ Damon _ and how happy she feels at last. “Okay, baby, okay. Cum for me Elena,” he practically growls in her ear and the he bites down on her neck and she’s gone. 

 

The heat explodes and travels through her whole body, and he presses her down and traps her. His dick is throbbing, and he’s filling her up with his cum and she can physically feel it filling her up and fighting for space where his dick isn’t consuming all the space of her pussy. Her body shakes and his arms start to shake, too, because that was the most intense thing he’s been apart of. She wraps her arms tight around his neck and kisses him deep until she comes down from his high and stops slowly rocking them through their orgasms. She follows with him when he rolls over, not letting him leave her just yet. She likes the feeling of him inside her and intends to hold that for as long as possible. 

 

He rubs her back where she’s splayed on top of him until she pulls herself off, lays next to him, and clamps her legs together. Her thighs are already damp with the feeling of him leaking out of her slowly. She curls tightly into his side, soaking in his warmth, and trails her nails up and down his chest. 

 

“That was amazing,” she murmurs in the suddenly dead silent room. She’s about to say “thank you” but he shushes her like he expects it. 

 

“You’re amazing,” he says quietly, “in every way. It’s hard not to love you.”

 

She reaches for the hand lying on his stomach, twisting their fingers together. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

 

“You can stay with me, here, for as long as you want.” He turns on his side, lifting onto his elbow to hover over her. His fingers run up her body, gently running around her nipples and up her face, stroking her cheek. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone, though.”

 

“Then maybe I won’t go anywhere,” she lifts and kisses him, sweet and soft. 

 

He lays back down and she curls into him again, rest her head on his chest. He maneuvers them and pulls the sheets and comforter over them, cocooning them from the rest of the world and whatever may come the next day. Elena pulls her necklace off, stares at it for just a second, and then barely hesitates to throw it into one of the single chairs across the room. 

 

“Was that the smartest idea?” he says into her hair, both arms curled around her. 

 

“I trust you,” she says back and relaxes. 

 

Because this, she knows, is exactly where she needs to be tonight. 


End file.
